Diary of a Death Eater
by Mizu-oni
Summary: What turns a person to the dark? What can turn them back? Exploring the mind of a Death Eater (OC). violencedeath, some tourture and all thouse other wonderful dark things.
1. The Master

Master of puppets- songfic!  
  
_End of passion play, crumbling away _She ran. Not in the sense that one would run just to run but running for your life running.  
  
_I'm your source of self-destruction _'He was going to pay for what he did, and he would be dead because of his own doing,' she thought venomously.  
  
_Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear Leading on your deaths construction _The dementors were gaining. 'It's odd,' she thought not pausing in her attempt to flee, 'that creatures who relish in slow painful maddening deaths can move that fast.'  
  
_Taste me you will see More is all you need _She tripped, a stupid thing to do while running for your life really.  
  
_You're dedicated to How I'm killing you_ 'Why did you become a death eater in the first place anyway?' a little voice inside her head mocked as she heard footsteps coming closer, 'you knew you'd eventually go back to the light side.'  
  
_Come crawling faster _"Hello pet," a voice purred as its owner stepped on her wand hand. "Miss me?"  
  
_Obey your master _'Oh yes that was why, Michael.'  
  
_Your life burns faster _The dark mark suddenly burned with a ferocious intensity on her left arm. They were being summoned back.  
  
_Obey your master _"Lets go," Michael said hauling her up to her feet by her now broken hand.  
  
_Master _She whimpered and then complied. Escorted by dementors she followed the tall Death Eater as he glided elegantly across the ominous grounds to the meeting hall.  
  
_Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings _"You have been called," the voice of the Dark Lord called out to the ring of followers.  
  
_Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams _"Because we have a traitor in our midst."  
  
_Blinded by me, you can't see a thing _"Bring her forth," the Dark Lord called out looking distinctly to his right.  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _"Please don't Michael," she pleaded quietly.  
  
_Master _"Time to go pet," He said warmly.  
  
_Master _"Please, no, I love you Michael, please."  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _Michael pushed her roughly forward, "Here she is Master."  
  
_Master_ She hated that word, master.

_Master _No one would be the master of her.  
  
_Needlework the way, never you betray _"Remove her mask," the Dark Lord commanded calmly. So calmly that one would think he was about to enjoy torturing her, which in all truth her probably was.  
  
_Life of death becoming clearer_ Michael pulled the white mask off and pulled the dark hood back revealing her sorrow filled face. Pain monopoly, ritual misery "Larissa Orion Dawn, are you a traitor?"  
  
_Chop your breakfast on a mirror _"Only to you."  
  
_Taste me you will see _The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow in interest.  
  
_More is all you need _"You are facing death little one," Michael said softly off to the side.  
  
_You're dedicated to _"Maybe we should let her live a little longer," the Dark Lord smiled.  
  
_How I'm killing you_ "Crucio"  
  
_Come crawling faster _Larissa screamed as her body convulsed violently on the floor.

_Obey your master _"Who are you loyal to?" the Dark Lord said lifting off the cruse.  
  
_Your life burns faster _Larissa pulled herself up shakily from the floor, "Is that all you've got? I've felt worse"  
  
_Obey your master _"Crucio."  
  
_Master _"Who are you loyal to?"  
  
_Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings _Larissa's eyes desperately searched the room as the cruse was lifted.  
  
_Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams _"I'm, uh, I'm, I'm," she said shakily, "I'm loyal to myself."  
  
_Blinded by me, you can't see a thing _"Why did you come to my if you were planning not to serve me?"  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _"Power,"  
  
_Master _"I needed power to win my love."  
  
_Master _"It didn't work."  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _"Crucio."  
  
_Master _She could hear Michael laughing.  
  
_Master_ 'Why did I do this for you Michael?'  
  
_Master, master, where's the dreams that I've been after? _'I only wanted to have you.'  
  
_Master, master, you promised only lies _'I only did what you asked.' Laughter, laughter, all I hear and see is laughter 'And still you're not mine.'  
  
_Laughter, laughter, laughing at my cries _'Why aren't you mine.'  
  
_Hell is worth all that, natural habitat _The cruse was lifted and pushed her crying, shaking form into a sitting position to look at Michael.  
  
_Just a rhyme without a reason _"I'd go to hell for you Michael!" she screamed.  
  
_Neverending maze, drift on numbered days _"And so you shall," Michael smiled behind his mask.  
  
_Now your life is out of season, _"I'll see you there then, love," she cried sadly.  
  
_I will occupy _"Severus, do you have the poison?"  
  
_I will help you die _Larissa knew what poison they were talking about, the potion masters experimental one.  
  
_I will run through you _'It'll only eat you alive,' she thought calmly to herself.  
  
_Now I rule you too _"Yes master."  
  
_Come crawling faster _The dark figure handed a vile of blue liquid to Michael.  
  
_Obey your master _"Open your mouth dear."  
  
_Your life burns faster _Larissa shook her head.  
  
_Obey your master _Michael took off his mask and gracefully kissed her.  
  
_Master _When he moved away he poured the vile liquid though her still parted lips.  
  
_Master of puppets I'm pulling your strings _The pain was instantaneous, bringing tears to her face  
  
_Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams _He laughed, "poor baby. You're gonna die aren't you?"  
  
_Blinded by me, you can't see a thing _The surrounding death eaters laughed at the scene  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _"Have mercy love!" she screamed.  
  
_Master _Michael looked to the Dark Lord for permission. He nodded.  
  
_Master _Michael readied his wand, "Avada,"  
  
_Just call my name, cause I'll hear you scream _'Michael'  
  
_Master _"Kedavra."  
  
_Master  
  
_Laughter was the last thing she heard.


	2. The essence of purity

AN: Well you probably don't want to hear this but I have started diary of a Death Eater and am going to have several people kill me for it but as I am sort of starting from the end it will be interesting. Anyway Master Of Puppets was just a prolog, and I don't plan on anymore songfics so you are all spared from that. Anywho, this sets off a bit after Larissa has died back at Hogwarts with Snape and Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore looked up at his currently unstable potions master. It was not often that Professor Severus Snape stormed into his office in obvious rage and reeking of alcohol... and late. "I presume you had a problem tonight Severus," the headmaster said calmly taking in the spy's haggard appearance.  
  
"The Dark Lord called twice," Severus glared at the headmaster, "The second time he called everybody, said we had a spy in our midst." Dumbledore straightened slightly hearing this. "Normally he does call twice," Severus ranted, "fist the higher ranking death eaters, then the low ones, as you know I am rather high ranking, he called everyone back after releasing the low ranking DE's." Snape paused for a moment, "Why didn't you tell me we had another spy. I mean, she was still a student for Merlin's sake! And a Hufflepuff at that!"  
  
"We did not have another spy, Severus, we had an informant. I did not know where this informant got her information but I guess I do now. Who was the poor girl?"  
  
"Larissa Dawn, a seventh year."  
  
"Ah," Dumbledore said stroking his beard thoughtfully, "that makes sense."  
  
"Don't you get it! A student is dead!"  
  
"I know very well that she's dead, her sister was the informant, a Gryffindor 5th year if I remember."  
  
"I killed her Albus."  
  
"Get some sleep Severus."  
  
"It was my potion."  
  
"Sleep, Snape or I'll ask Poppy to make sure you get a sleeping drought."  
  
Snape frowned and then left the office peacefully. Albus leaned back in his chair thoughtfully looking at the journal before him. It had been spelled to be delivered to him upon the death of its owner. It had arrived by owl just an hour before and before now he didn't know whom it had belonged to. He looked sadly at the cover filled with color, peace signs, smiley faces and flowers. He thought about the obscure Hufflepuff student pensively as he stared at her journal.  
  
Larissa had been the joyful embodiment of a Slytherpuff, not a Slythern by most means but rather a Hufflepuff that leaned towards the dark side. She was cheerful, she got along with everyone she wanted to and she claimed to be innocently oblivious to the rumored 'Hufflepuff's hidden talent', as all Hufflepuffs did. She was a bit of a loner though, not finding any friends in her own house, only socializing with them when necessary, she didn't even cheer for Hufflepuffs during Quidditch matches. Albus laughed at that thought, her few best friends had resided in Ravenclaw and Slythern houses most being older then her, leaving her alone when they graduated.  
  
Dumbledore sighed, he didn't really know what to do these days, especially about a Hufflepuff Death Eater turned lower level spy that just happened to get herself killed. What made her turn to the life of a Death Eater? He flipped through the diary casually not really reading anything. A small slip of pink paper fell from the very abused looking book.  
  
Dumbledore looked at it in slight apprehension before picking up the paper. It has the word 'Purity' written at the top in a deep emerald ink that still shone as if wet and on the right side of the text that followed there were hearts and stars and a rainbow that ended in a small fluffy cloud, but on the left there was a simple sketch of a dagger.  
  
'_Purity_,' Dumbledore read, '_What is really pure, we think of purity as untainted, as honor and as virtue, we think or purity as being as white as snow. This is wrong. For example pure silver is just silver. Pure color is the absence of. Okay now on to the real fun, if purity if the absence of all else then it is dark, it is darker than ink and it is darker than night. Black is the absence of color while white is the existence of all colors the existence of all things. Light is acceptance, tolerance and anything but purity. Purity is dark, purity is harsh, it either burning hot or frostbite cold, purity is the epitome of hate and prejudice_.'  
  
"You might be right Miss Dawn, you might be right." Dumbledore said putting the paper back into the journal. It was at that moment Dumbledore got an owl. 


	3. The body

Chapter three: The body  
  
An owl, such wonderful creatures they were, bring messages at any time. What startled Albus Dumbledore was the fact that someone would be sending him an owl this early in the morning. It was 2 AM after all.  
  
'Happy Halloween!' the card read looking rather cheerful as if to counteract the fact that it was being sent at 2 AM. Casually Dumbledore opened the card, "The tricks on you!" a familiar evil voice said loudly before cackling insanely though the card read 'your treat's on the Hogwarts gate.'  
  
"What have you got up your sleeve this time Tom?"  
  
It wasn't until later that morning that anyone noticed something was up, the missing potions master was a clue and the somber headmaster would make rumors fly but the thing that made the students really want to know what was happening this early Halloween morning was the Dark Mark hanging ominously over the gates of Hogwarts. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall went to the gates that the problems really started.  
  
The Daily Prophet took pictures and before Hogwarts could cover up the incident the entire student population knew about the body of a fellow student hanging on the gates. She was hung in a crucifix-like style, her arm stretched into a Y shape making sure the world saw the Dark Mark clearly on her arm. Dumbledore barely got his word about the tragedy before The Prophet printed.  
  
_'"Miss Dawn was an informant for the order and I regret to say that is more than likely the reason for her death," a melancholy Albus Dumbledore said just outside the gates of Hogwarts. He also informed us that services will be held at Hogwarts for the courageous young woman who faced her death many times to bring vital information to the side of light. Informants at Hogwarts say that Larissa Dawn, a 7th year Hufflepuff, decided to help in the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with the death of her close friend the late Cedric Diggory two years ago.'  
  
_The lies were in plain sight to any who knew her, her _close friend Diggory _had never seemed to be able remember her name and probably never cared, for her being _courageous_ she never stood up for herself when Slytherins pushed her down staircases or sent her to the hospital wing with curses and hexes, she never told anyone who had cursed her when they had found her suffering from the after effects of crucio her third year, and as for _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named _she called him 'The Dark Lord' and she was damn proud of it.  
  
But plainly put Larissa Dawn was now a martyr for the side of the light. It was a very good thing she was dead actually, if she had been found out as a traitor and lived she would have no doubt gone off and crawled back to the Death Eaters. She would have just kept coming back till she died. She was loyal, just not to the Dark Lord.  
  
Albus Dumbledore fingered the pale yellow diary, he had been skimming through it looking for something to put in her elegy but so far he had found nothing. He then stumbled across a page that only had one sentence on it. It simply read, "**He doesn't love me**."  
  
The ageing headmaster was attempting to find out who but all he could find pointed towards one Michael Orrin. Now why Michael had caught her eye no one really knows, sure he was handsome and had that smooth aristocratic way of taking control but he was not out of her league. Normally schoolgirl crushes fall upon guys that are always out of the crushee's league (the unobtainableness making the romance tragically die before it ever starts), as the reason for this is still unknown I will not press the issue. Michael was not as tall as some, not as dark as most, and barely passed the ridiculously high bar that counted as handsome, he was fairly normal. Well as normal and a handsome Death Eater can get.  
  
One thing you learn in life is, the most dangerous evil people are the ones you can't spot. Typically throughout the history of evil there are 2 types of evil villains. The first type is the more commonly used evil, the evil who's twisted, scarred and ugly soul matches his horrid looks. It's like you can always spot the villain because of how ugly he is. The next evil is the one more people are afraid of, this evil villain is sly, handsome and manipulative.  
  
The problem with handsome evil villains is they are usually rather intelligent, you don't know their evil until it's too late. Now you can usually tell a second type evil by the people flocking to him and that you also seem to feel the need to take his side, even against the well known 'good guy'. These villains also have fewer weaknesses than the 'ugly villain'; they are more often than not conquered by skill rather than their own idiocy. Michael was rather good at being this type of villain, at least as good as he could be, being a low ranking death eater.  
  
Not that Dumbledore knew this. He knew the young ex-student and current Azkaban guard had wept tragically over the death of his love while holding her body at the gates. He had come as soon as he had heard, abandoning his post and letting many of the criminals escape. It was a full scale Azkaban break out actually. All the guards on duty were dead. Love saved his life. No, the young Mr. Orrin had been nothing but kind to the girl. They loved each other. They had to. 


	4. The diary part 1

'_Hello_,' the untidy scrawl read happily, '_I really don't care about you. You're just a stupid diary anyway. My therapist says I need to write down my feeling though. Isn't it funny? I'm nine years old and already seeing a shrink. My father says it's because of the deaths, my mother just smiles and says that dad's wrong, says he just doesn't understand power. I wonder why she used that word, Power. Death is powerful. Mum says that I have a power, if I do not control death, how can I be powerful?_'  
  
When Larissa had started her journal she never intended for it to be read, least of all by Albus Dumbledore, in the last three months of her life however she planed for just that. Her journal was a key as to why she turned out the way she did.  
  
'_You probably don't understand what I meant about the deaths. It's sort of funny actually; I saw my fifth death last week. I had said, _"**_Don't, there's a truck_**," _he didn't see it and walk across anyway. Then wham this blue truck barreled into him, it was beautiful. There was a lot of blood; it smeared as the windshield wipers attempted to move over the cracked glass, rain poured making the blood seem to multiply. So much blood. Beautiful. I just stood there and watched. Mum woke me up afterwards, asked if I had a good dream. I shouldn't have told her. But she understands now, she understands now that the boy's dead. I wonder who he was_.'  
  
'Mellow,' 'nice,' 'a Hufflepuff,' 'Larissa wouldn't harm a soul,' the words spewed out of students mouths that morning, all claiming Larissa was a perfectly decent human being. The second Hufflepuff student to be lost to the dark lord; even now Larissa was just second.  
  
'_I've got a pet kitten now, actually it's a toad... or it used to be a toad at least. Toad is a very funny cat. I saved him from a bunch of stupid boys, poking him with a stick they were! Father says it's impossible that my cat was once a toad but mum understands, she always does when weird things happen._'  
  
Dumbledore skipped a few more pages, nothing but daily going-ons, simple routines, and dull drabble about friends and school.  
  
'_My tenth birthday and I find out that my friends are going off to some boarding school and don't want to ever talk to me again. Said I was lower than dirt, called me a filthy muggle (whatever that is), and said I should never speak to them again. I've lost my best friends_.'  
  
'_My parents are getting a divorce. They are getting it because of that stupid letter. At times I wish I never knew about the wizarding world, but I love magic. Mom had to take me to a shop in America to get a wand. No other wand would work. It's so frustrating_!'  
  
Dumbledore almost laughed at that, he had heard of the girl's wand predicament. Her temperamental wand proved she was not meant to do terrible things. American made (supposedly the worst wand makers) bamboo (practically unheard of for a wand as the wood allows the wand a sort of mind) 12 inches (powerful length) long with a core of dragon scale and two veela hairs (veela's are temperamental and prideful by nature and dragon while easier to tame are much the same, put that with a mind...). Her wand in short had a mind of it's own and while it was the only wand for her (as all other wands simply refused to work) it didn't like to cooperate often and while it seemed to like most dark magic (most of the illegal stuff) it simply refused to do the unforgivables. No she was never meant to do terrible things.  
  
Dumbledore flipped forward a few pages past the page that marked her return to the side of the light and found what he was looking for. 


	5. Grief, The

"'_I miss being human'_" Dumbledore read to the static crowd. "'_I've turned into this smiling, snarling monster. I live a life that is immoral in so many ways that I really don't know what is right anymore. Except loyalty. Loyalty is the only thing left right in this world, true loyalty that is. There are very few I am loyal to, hell I'm not even loyal to my family. I will not betray them; I will not do anything to put them in danger; I will not harm them; I will do anything within my power to save them from the fate I have given myself. I'm gonna die, everyone is really, but I'm gonna die soon. I really don't mind._' Larissa Dawn was a true Hufflepuff and has brought honor to her house with her words and her actions. May she rest in peace."  
  
The crowd clapped lightly and cried. Her casket was lowered into the earth, magic sealed the earth and a tombstone was all that was left. Most people left after that, the few that remained chatted amongst themselves lightly about the deceased. One didn't.  
  
Michael sat solemnly in the front of the new grave staring mindlessly at it. No tears fell from his eyes though many were shed for his pain. Many had come and gone but he remained. He really didn't know why.  
  
The hour wore on and he was left alone to stare at the words she requested on the plain gray stone. "**Here lies a woman who loved**," he whispered. 'Right, love,' Michael scoffed, "Love is weak. Love makes you weak."  
  
'_Michael_,' her voice, during its hopeful pain filled plea, entered his mind.  
  
"You betrayed me!" he shouted at the tombstone, "its all your fault! Why can't— Why did—Fuck, WHY Damn you!?!"  
  
'_You-you.... I-I.... I think I hate you Michael_,' Her voice taunted him. Two months before she had caught him with another woman, he really wasn't that bothered by the encounter, she still did what he asked, she still followed him around, she still said she loved him. His left eye twitched as he remembered the incident afterwards.  
  
"_Why?" Larissa cried, tears streaming down her face. "Was I never good enough? Was there anything that you asked of me that I did not do? Why can't you love me?"  
  
"Oh Puff, I do love you-" Michael tried to calm her. All thoughts to do so however were quickly pushed by the sharp sting of her hand hitting his cheek.  
  
"Don't you dare say you love me," she threatened darkly, "not after you just did '**that**'," she jerked her thumb at the now thoroughly mutilated corpse, "in '**our**' bed."  
  
Michael roughly grabbed her hand and crushed it tightly, "But I do love you," the malice clearly showing in his voice, "I love you very much Pet, but you're not my lover, you never were and you never will be. **You** are my **pet**. **You **do as **I **say and when I tell you to stop torturing you will do so before they **die**. I might have married her if you hadn't interfered."  
  
Larissa looked at him in fear, awe and an emotion he had only seen in her once before, hate, it was in that moment that she said the words that brought her to betrayal, "You-you.... I-I.... I think I hate you Michael."  
_  
"You don't really hate me do you?" he whispered to the grave. Those were the same words he said that night but he said them differently now, now he cared... just a bit.  
  
"Is the great almighty Slytherin Orrin actually showing emotion?" a voice taunted above him.  
  
"Alanna Delray, fancy meeting you here. Got tired of sleeping with St. Mungo's doctors for stories yet? Have you decided to write something about your 'dear little Larissa', because if you have leave me out of that drabble, I don't need my name lost in the back of _The Prophet_."  
  
"You didn't deserve her."  
  
"And I'm supposed to care about this why?" Michael leaned against the headstone defensively.  
  
Alanna was shocked for a few seconds before she flew into rage, "You scum sucking Death Eater bastard, if you had one speck of love in your body you would have loved her, you heartless bastard!"  
  
Michael raised an eyebrow questioningly, "And here I thought you might have said something intelligent. But I guess that was too much to ask for from you Delray. I thought a writer would at least be more inventive."  
  
Alanna gazed past him towards the headstone sadly. It was a few minutes before she broke the shamelessly comfortable silence they were in; "She told me about the night she caught you-"  
  
"Caught me what?" Michael demanded harshly sitting a little straighter,  
  
"Cheating on her," Alanna paused, "She was covered in blood and tears and she said she had killed the girl, said you could cover it up. I guess you did, never heard about anything remotely related. Anyway, she said she hated you." Alanna sat on the grass next to him, "I asked her about killing the girl since she was obviously shook up, she just laughed, proclaimed she would rid the world of any girl who so much as looked at you if it would make you love her completely. Then she said she loved you."  
  
"I may have loved her," Michael said thoughtfully.  
  
"May have? Wow you're real decisive. Did it take you that long to decide whether or not to take the dark mark, Because it's been 6 years Orrin, and I don't think You-know-who waits that long."  
  
"What do you want from me you stupid bitch!"  
  
"Nothing much, but I am going to take your wand before you hex the graveyard to pieces."  
  
"Right," he drawled sarcastically.  
  
"Accio wand. You'll get it back in the morning Orrin, I promise." And with that she apparated away.  
  
"Fuck. You know this is all your fault," he glared at the tombstone again. He glanced around the cemetery, upon finding it completely empty he did something no one who knew him would have expected.  
  
"I'm sorry I killed you." He kissed the top of the stone and let a single tear drip onto it, "I really did love you." He shoved his hands into his pockets and set off towards muggle London wandless and alone. At the gates he called back, "I'll meet you in hell again one day Larissa, maybe you'll be happy with me there."  
  
Out from behind an angel of marble stepped Alanna Delray, quick quill notes in hand. 


	6. The hate

The muggle world seemed colder than normal to Michael. He felt rather helpless and that seed the only reason for not getting drunk at this moment. Fear coursed through him. He was weak and powerless; he could be killed right now. He felt it would have been Larissa Dawn who would have killed him if he hadn't killed her first, now he didn't really know from which direction to expect his death. His death seemed so secure when she was around, so concrete that all that had to happen was the right moment and then he'd have been gone.  
  
The reason for this was the hate she had shown him with a look. a look that currently haunted his mind as one of the most memorable things about her. She only had ever hated one other person in her life and Michael was there the night she got to destroy the object of her hate. He was there the night she killed her father.  
  
_The scene was one witnessed many times before; Death Eaters stormed a muggle household for fun. This particular raid was meant to be more for one girl though. The door was blown open beautifully. One Death Eater hummed cheerfully as she glided through the rubble, this seemed to be the only sort of situation that Larissa was able to be powerful, the only situation where she was graceful, the only sort of situation that mattered to her.  
  
She halted in the wreckage of the entranceway as several black cloaked people swarmed past her and up the stairs. She looked on in mild amusement as the family was thrown down the stairs, three muggles and a squib.  
  
"Who are you people?" the squib screamed. He was what she was after.  
  
She squatted down to where his body had fallen, "poor, poor pure little Squib, surely you recognize this." She pulled up the left sleeve to her robes and brandished her marked forearm in his face.  
  
"The dark mark," he whispered, astonished. "But the Dark Lord's dead."  
  
"Don't make assumptions, they're bad for your health." Besides her one of the muggles was getting a round of Crucios. "Now," Larissa pulled back her cloak's hood and pushed her mask up, "Daddy dearest, you shall see where assumptions lead." She pulled out a good-sized knife as well as her wand.  
  
Her father chuckled softly, "you really don't know what you're doing girl."  
  
"Don't I? Fervefacio," she muttered pointing her wand at the knife. The knife glowed white for a few seconds before settling down to a pulsing hot reddish-orange.  
  
"You're a stupid girl, I always knew you would never get anywhere." The side of the knife met his cheek in a brutal slap, the burn already blistering on the fair man's skin. Across the mark there was a line of blood where the tip of the knife grazed the skin as his head had turned.  
  
"A warning, Father. Don't test my temper again or you will suffer a longer death then necessary. Fodio Morsus," she cried pointing her wand at him. He screamed in pain, the feeling of many snakes chewing viciously on random parts of his person was apparently not a very happy feeling. She let up the curse and petted his short hair, "Now isn't that better? Pain spells are so amazing sometimes. They're the spells I can do the best. And here you said I'd never amount to anything."  
  
"You're mad!" he screamed trying to scramble away from her. Cords shot from her wand after a muttered word or two and held the man in place. She stepped over to where he was now laying and brought her heel down sharply on his kneecap twice, satisfied when she heard the crack she repeated the action on his other knee.  
  
"Maybe," she said as she knelt next to him for better access. She dragged the knife lightly across his hands and up his arm, allowing the heat to make lines of burnt flesh in it's wake, "but that's your problem, isn't it?" The knife had trailed all the way up to his shoulder where she decided to plunge the knife. A scream ripped through her victim's throat as she twisted her weapon before ripping it out and moving on to the other shoulder.  
  
She pulled out the knife and wiped the blood off on a clean part of her victim's shirt. Then she dragged the knife down his shirt, consequentially ridding him of the garment. "This," she said dragging the knife slowly across his chest, barley drawing blood, "is for every time I've thought of killing you." After about twenty marks she pushed the knife deeper, "This is for every time you made me want to kill myself." A few more then she pushed deeper, "These are for all the times I've killed thinking of you, wishing it was you. You deserve to die you filthy freak of magic." After a significant number of cuts marred his bloody skin she stood up to gaze proudly at her work.  
  
"You're not screaming enough," she said, frowning as she pulled out her wand, "Hominis deleo," the screams rivaled the ones normally from the Cruciatus curse. "Just as good as Castration with a dull knife I would think. Though I've never had anyone tell me how it feels. So Daddy how does it feel to no longer be a man."  
  
"Go to hell you little bitch!" he screamed hoarsely  
  
She smiled happily, "Good. I shall remember that the next time I torture. Now I-"  
  
"Time to go Pet," said a voice behind her, the speaker wrapping his arms around her lovingly.  
  
"But I'm not finished yet, Love. He's not dead," she pouted.  
  
"Well hurry up, and don't forget what I said about playing with the victims," Michael had scolded lightly before releasing her and heading out the door.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, don't play with your victims too long or you'll get caught. Am I in charge of the mark tonight?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
"Yes, you'll be the last out the door," with that he left.  
  
"See Daddy, I can be something, I have a lover and you'll just have the worms that will eat your corpse," she swooped down and swiftly cut her fathers throat. "Exussum," she muttered as she exited the now burning building, "goodbye Father, Mordsmordre!"  
  
The dark mark flew above a quaint house in London that night. _


	7. The catalyst

Dumbledore had read through all the information in Larissa's Diary and found most of it uneventful, unhelpful and boring. He found it interesting that there were magical blocks preventing her diary from revealing most names, specific dates and in many cases whole entries altogether. Only the end of the journal seemed completely unblocked, and that consisted of the pages she had written with Dumbledore in mind. He also had finally gathered from many scattered entries the day and reason for her decision to join the dark side.  
  
Larissa had to stay at her Father's house for a month the summer between her 5th and 6th years at Hogwarts. The Tri-wizard tournament had recently ended and with it came the rise of the dark lord. Larissa happened to be rather reluctant to stay with her father; in fact she seemed to hate her father with the same passion that upper-class purebloods reserved for muggles. To her, her father was a low down muggle kissing blood traitor squib.  
  
Daniel Baikal was not the sort of person too even attempt to win the favor of his children, he simply was not brought up that way. Even after the divorce, when he rarely saw his daughters, he remained distant from his children. You see Daniel came from a long line of powerful dark wizards from Russia. The Baikal's had a history of excelling in the dark arts and following whichever Dark Lord entered their era. Then Daniel came along, a squib with what society deemed 'positive moral values'. The effect was disastrous for the family. The family was split over the fact the heir to the Baikal name was a squib. They tried desperately to change his values and used dark magic to steal the boy some magic, but nothing worked.  
  
Then the downfall of the Dark Lord came. Many of the Baikal's had received the dementor's kiss and even more where dead, a few scattered cousins and distant relations where all that was left besides the family skeleton, the squib. Five years before the fall of the Dark Lord Daniel had run off and married a nice pureblooded witch from a very neutral family that has a history of being insane. It was rumored that the only real reason they were neutral was that no side wanted to claim the useless nutcases, this family was the Dawn family. Their youngest daughter, Artemis, was given a small pat on the back and an even quieter "good for you" when she married Daniel right out of Hogwarts and moved out of the wizarding world.  
  
The happy couple had apparently lived like muggles with only minor connections to their past life up until their oldest daughter, Larissa, got her Hogwarts letter. Daniel honestly believed the wizarding world was evil, that magic was evil and that the world would be better off if magic folk were all killed. Using this line of reasoning he demanded that Larissa not attend any sort of magical school and just live her life out as a muggle. Artemis disagreed, that led to the divorce of the nice young couple and the estrangement of father and daughter. Daniel over looked the fact that his other daughter, Tania, attended Hogwarts, it was Larissa who started making waves after all.  
  
Larissa was not happy about her current residence in her father's house. Her stepmother (a muggle) had decided since Larissa was barely there, the room that Larissa had dubbed 'Dementor's lair' should be put to good use. Dementor's lair was black when Larissa had left it; it had been black since she was three, the only colors that had been in the room besides black where dark blue, pale yellow, and turquoise. The paper-thin curtains had usually been drawn, the light streaming through them giving and thing that wasn't dark a yellow tint, as if corrupting the light. But everything was cream now; well maybe not everything, the rest was pink. Dementor's lair had been turned into 'The rose room'; it was for 'guests'.  
  
Larissa had sucked in the dismemberment of her room and took it as no horrible plot against her. As the weeks wore on she realized her father's plot against her, he was trying to cram her into his little moral box, make her part of his magic-less law abiding church going family. He had cut her off from her friends and from Michael through the means of not allowing Tania's owl anywhere near the house and warning of punishment for any owls that did. Not that she wasn't flattered that her father actually wanted her, but Larissa had had just about enough of his stupid ideas.  
  
Susan Baikal was a very nice muggle. She knew nothing of the wizarding world her husband was raised in and even less about the going-ons of her stepdaughters. All that she really knew was that Larissa was being sent to a prestigious boarding school that did not discourage her dabbling in magic. Not that Susan understood magic; she thought of it as tarot cards, tea leaves, mixing herbal remedies and calling them potions and most of all, deals with the devil for power. She simply overlooked her husband's comments to Larissa when he was in a bad mood.  
  
"Pathetic little witch," and "You'd have been better off living with me," with a very real undertone of 'you're practically a squib anyway,' were common enough to hear, along with the occasional, "You see anyone's death in those soggy leaves or should I rearrange them for you?" But when Susan was out Daniel used threats of breaking her wand and mentions of her low OWL scores as ways of keeping her in line. A month with him was not looking up for Larissa.  
  
She made it three weeks actually. The sickishly pink room full of rose potpourri made Larissa nauseous and she opted to sleep on the couch in the den, the taunts were ignored and she spent her days writing in her journal about her reading from her morning ritual tea leave reading. Saturday came and went with out event, why couldn't Sunday?  
  
Sunday morning found Larissa in turmoil. The first rays of sun peaked through the windows of a shamelessly yellow kitchen that seemed to have been overtaken by sunflowers and joyfully bounced off Larissa's tangled curls as she stared blankly into her tea cup. "Two paths, a choice today will decide one way or the other. One peaceful and long the other short, dark and painful, vengeful, powerful. The choice will come today."  
  
She blinked in surprise, "Oh fuck."  
  
It was only an hour later when her father found her staring idly out window at a swarm of ladybugs that were getting picked off by a few small birds. "Time to go," he said in an amused voice, startling Larissa from her peaceful position.  
  
"Go where?"  
  
He frowned, "we're going to church."  
  
"I'm not going to church today," she said quietly, looking at her cup sadly.  
  
"Why not?" Susan asked walking into the kitchen to grab the car keys she had stashed under the strawberry shaped cookie jar.  
  
Larissa raised her head with power and determination, "I fear something bad will happen if I go."  
  
"Oh," Daniel said looking at her with a slight grin on his face, "Afraid you'll get saved?"  
  
Larissa's eyes flashed angrily, "I'm not going!"  
  
"Yes you are you little brat! Go get in the car now!" Daniel roared. It usually took longer for him to get upset. Larissa was starting to get suspicious of him.  
  
"No!"  
  
"You go or I'll—" he was cut off by Tania's quiet voice.  
  
"Larissa," Tania said, softly touching her sister's shoulder, "just come please. Nothing will happen, I promise."  
  
Larissa never did stand up to Tania unless the situation called for it, and to her, the situation had not gotten that desperate yet. So she sent one last glare at her father before storming out to the car.  
  
The sermon was on the evils of witched and how they should all be put to death. How they were devil worshipers and infected with demons. The pastor talked about how the congregation should avoid these people, how a witch's purpose was to bring down the Christian society.  
  
Not more then a week later Larissa attended her first Death Eater meeting. 


	8. The Key

Michael was lonely. An unfamiliar feeling for him, he usually had Larissa or some random female companion but now he really couldn't stand anyone's presence even though he knew he needed it. That's what led him to sit on a muggle swing in a very muggle playground. The early morning dew collected on the grass as he watched the horizon lighten in preparation for sunrise. It had been a rather depressing week. The more he thought the more he blamed it on Larissa. If she had really loved him she wouldn't have left the dark lord, putting him in a situation where he would kill her, consequentially leaving him alone. Yep, it was her fault.  
  
He pulled a chain out from underneath his shirt. On the end of the chain was a key, it was fairly small and rather girlish in his opinion but it had been a gift from Larissa. She had magically engraved the words 'Key to my heart, mind and soul' on it and he only wore it to appease her rather skewed ideas of love. He never knew what it went to and for the most part he didn't care. He pushed himself forward on the swing, his feet brushing the grass that was threatening to overtake entire playground, he pushed forward and thought. The remnants of a waning moon sunk into the lightening horizon in front of him, everything seemed peaceful. The first rays of sunlight hit his back sharply, sending a fierce wave of heat into his body.  
  
A few local morning joggers looked at him curiously as they passed but ignored him for the most part. Mourners were common enough to find in the park, as it was located only a block from the cemetery. An owl swooped by and dropped a small package in the young man's lap.  
  
_This is the diary of the late Larissa Dawn. May it be a small comfort in your time of loss.  
  
Albus Dumbledore_  
  
Michael laughed hysterically at the small book in his hands. He fumbled with the broken lock before he clutched the key to his chest in realization. "Sly little bitch, never thought you'd be that smart," he smirked happily, unlocking the diary. Magic filtered over the diary, revealing page upon page of sensitive information that the side of the light would never know.  
  
Michael stopped the swing and read the first page with rapt attention, it looked as if it had been glued in, a page that wasn't there to begin with.  
  
_Oh wow, I achieved the spell properly. Maybe that's because it's dark magic, oh well. Hello! I am a very powerful person you see, and not all that stupid or clumsy. If you are reading this then you either stole the key and the book or know me very well. Which if you know me very well you're probably laughing at my previous statement. Let's see, who would I give all this special info to? Athalyndi? No she'd burn it before she'd read it. Melanie? Briefly go through it then let Athalyndi burn it I suppose. Renna? Blackmail material on me (or my poor dead body as the case will probably be). Tania? I don't think I want her to know all the things I've done. Michael? That's probably it.  
  
Well hello Michael. This book contains my life, including my love for you. If this does end up in your hands I hope you treasure it. If you don't... well I really can't threaten you at this point in time, maybe I'll think of something later, love you.  
  
Larissa Orion Dawn_

_o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o  
_AN:  
Yes, I am sorry for this being late. My excuses are, my muses went on vacation, my job is wearing me down, I've had two friends in the hospital in the past two weeks and my computer died. I have a new one now, I named him Lucian. Hope this (extreamly pathetic and short) extra chapter makes up for it!


	9. Melanie

The world changed quickly, as it normally seems to do, through Larissa's years at Hogwarts. She blamed it on Harry Potter. He caused the routine life she established in her first year to be disrupted by random bouts excitement and involvement in something bigger than schoolwork. It all started her second year; She thought it was going to be a very smooth and happy year, which it was, but it didn't go the way she expected. Michael remembered that year fondly as he pieced it together through Larissa's Diary.

Larissa Dawn knew things, not normal things, mind you, but still things. She didn't know a charm to unlock doors, she didn't know what potion to use on burns (nor what it was made of), and she certainly didn't know whether or not the Hufflepuff house team stood a chance at Quidditch in the upcoming year. What she did know was that something strange was going to happen at Hogwarts.  
  
"Being a Seer," her favorite book read, "is a lot more difficult than people like to think it is. The key to Seeing is interpretation. If you See things but then interpret them incorrectly, the entire reading will be untrue and you will be considered a fraud."  
  
That book, Seeing Yourself, was the main reason she rarely shared what she Saw. Larissa desperately wanted to be right.  
  
Now, the reason that she wanted to badly to be right was because she had a little crush. Earlier she had done a reading about the future of this relationship, and all she had gotten was that her feelings for this boy would increase. However, she took a cue from her Slytherin-esque Ravenclaw friend, Melanie, and kept quiet, letting the small things, like love, sort themselves out. She focused instead on more important things, strange things. For example, what she Saw today.  
  
Tea reading is an art. It takes no concentration, just a ready imagination and some tea leaves. Well, that plus the consumption of the tea made from said tea leaves. Today, however, Larissa's limited knowledge of tea reading and absolute hatred of the only tea left in the house were put to good use.  
  
It started as any other normal summer day, Larissa woke up at about eight and made breakfast for herself and her sister, Tania, while Tania cleaned the house. After breakfast Larissa proceeded to sneer at the forgotten to-do list for her mother's apothecary, then sit down for her daily tea reading.  
  
This morning, Tania seemed to have cleaned the window unusually well. The sun was shining through it in an insanely bright and cheerful way as she brought the still steaming cup to her lips. She hated the smell of the tea and put it down abruptly without taking so much as a sip. Outside, a bird sang, a sort of happy love song that would end in the coming of the rain she had predicted yesterday. Once more, Larissa brought the cup to her lips, but spilled some of the scalding fluid on her clean white shirt, sending her quickly upstairs for a change. She returned soon after and attempted to drink the unnaturally strong black tea yet again, only to be distracted by a few brightly colored butterflies and the previously mentioned bird that promptly ate them.  
  
Larissa turned away from the window and raised the now cooled cup to her lips for the fourth time, finally getting in a sip. She ended up accidentally gulping down the entire cup when she was startled by a rather spectacular thump against the window.  
  
She didn't even glance at the dregs in the bottom of the cup before opening the window for a slightly confused, and extremely familiar albino elf owl. The owl was insanely small, making Larissa think of a warm, fluffy snowball that never flew where you aimed it (she knew from experience). It carried a message addressed simply to "Hufflepuff." As expected, it was an invitation to visit Diagon Alley (and possibly Knockturn Alley, the letter hinted) within the week before returning to school. Larissa was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts as an overexcited, hyper, clumsy Hufflepuff second year, instead of an overexcited, hyper, clumsy Hufflepuff first year. Larissa attempted to shoo the tiny owl out the window (deciding to reply later), but gave up after knocking over and breaking a lamp that was charmed to be unbreakable. The owl could just fly out on its own.  
  
She returned to her empty cup, and was startled to find a sort of soggy, strange-looking lightning bolt-ish shape residing right in the center of it.  
  
"A great adversary, or victory," she said to herself, starting the reading properly. She turned the cup a bit. "The king is dead, the game is won? Why a chess symbol?" She tilted the cup the other way. "A hand and a vase. Planting?" She stared blankly at the cup before yelling to her diligent familiar.  
  
"Toad!"  
  
A simple, plain, Siamese cat padded into the kitchen at the sound of his name.  
  
"Go catch Fininimum, would you?" She asked, digging into the nearby desk for paper and a pen. The cat gave her what may be called a smile and went in search of its prey.  
  
_Dear Melanie,__  
  
__Today the fates did not want me to read the tea leaves. I think something big is going to happen at school this year. There will be an adversary, mine or not I cannot tell. Not an enemy, but certainly not a friend. I also See a great leader being conquered, a king or such. Also maybe something to do with planting... Maybe I'll hurt myself in Herbology or something. Anyhow, Athalyndi sent me a message about shopping for school, and I borrowed her owl to send you this.__  
__What do you say we meet in three days at Flourish and Blotts?__  
  
__Hufflepuff_  
  
A few minutes later, Toad slunk back up to Larissa with a puff of white feathers about the same size as the little owl held lightly in his mouth. Using the cat's grip on the bird to hold him still, Larissa fastened the letter to its leg before freeing him from the cat's grip.  
  
"Take this to Melanie, alright, Fininimum? Mel-an-ie. Got that?"

One thing Michael could say about Melanie was that he was surprised the girl's sardonic tongue didn't get he into trouble more often. She didn't stand out much, but then again there were very few people in the world that caught more than a few peoples' eyes.

Melanie Sparling was of a slender if not normal build, average height, and had, framed with heavy mascara, dark blue eyes that sparkled slightly when she was inflicting pain on others, verbally or not. She had creamy white skin just a shade above 'pale' and long thin pitch-black hair that seemed to uncooperatively fly any which way with the slightest breeze. She was nothing special to behold, especially not at 13. That year was her third year and despite her Ravenclaw status she interacted with very few of them; She was acquainted with many Slytherins and a few Gryffindors and friends with only three people.

Not that Michel cared about her then, Melanie Sparling was just a mild curiosity to him; she still was but now she was also an ally. He looked at the smiling picture of four young girls and winced in sympathy; Melanie Sparling, now an Auror and Death-Eater, was one of the few on the mission to hang the deceased Hufflepuff's body up for display. Melanie never showed up at the funeral.


End file.
